


Turbulence

by carma19



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carma19/pseuds/carma19
Summary: Flying home from the USO tour, Chloe is determined to help Beca conquer her fear of flying... while ticking something off her bucket list.





	Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for PP3 ahead. Read at your own risk!

_Ding!_

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We've climbed to cruising altitude of 41,000 feet. Please keep yourselves safely buckled in until the fasten seatbelt light turns off. We'll arrive at our destination in approximately five hours and twenty minutes."

 

The pilot's voice pierced through Beca's earbuds and her white-knuckled grip on the armrests slowly started to relax. She focused on her breathing--in through her nose, out through her mouth--and summoned the courage to open the firm window shade partway.

 

After their USO tour reunion, the Bellas were airborne once more--possibly for the last time all together--though this time at night, the setting sun swirling fiery shades of red and orange through the puffy clouds now below their aircraft. Hopeful they'd reached an altitude where her ears were at low-risk of pressure-poppage, Beca found the gum wrapper she'd shoved into her pocket after she boarded the plane and spat her masticated wad of now flavorless-gum inside, twisting it up into a silvery ball and rolling it between her fingertips. A sigh passed her lips as she continued watching the clouds, lost in thought. So much had happened in the past two weeks and she wasn't sure her head would ever stop spinning.

 

In the seat beside her, Fat Amy patted her hand. "See? You survived another take-off!" She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "This might be the last time you and I fly coach. I'll take that." She flipped her hand palm-up and nodded toward the trash.

 

Half-paying attention, Beca assumed Amy would toss the wrapper-covered gum into the garbage bag the stewardess carried toward them up the aisle.

 

Instead, she popped Beca's discarded gum into the breast pocket of her denim jacket.

 

"Dude," Beca snapped, tugging her earbuds out to blink at Amy. "Did you seriously just put my _used gum_ in your pocket?"

 

" _Shhh!_ " Fat Amy straightened up and looked around to make sure no other Bellas--or any of the other several dozen passengers aboard the packed flight--overheard before settling back into her seat. Leaning toward Beca conspiratorially, she tapped her pocket. "Listen, Beca. We've got to be smart about our future. You just opened for DJ Khaled and got offered a recording deal with a major label, which means soon you're going to be famous. D'you have any idea how much money people will pay for a famous singer's used gum on eBay?"

 

Beca leveled her gaze on Fat Amy. "One, gross. Two, you _just_ told me you've got 180 million dollars in your bank account. I'm pretty sure you don't need my gum money."

 

Amy waved her hand. "That's not the point. Just because I'm rich now doesn't mean I don't want to be a responsible adult. And responsible adults don't miss an opportunity to brighten a fan's day with their second favorite singer's old gum."

 

The hint of a smile pulled at Beca's lips but she resisted, setting her mouth back in a straight line. "Okay, you're like--a few hundred steps ahead of yourself." She hadn't technically signed her contract yet, but Theo scheduled the big meeting in LA for two weeks from now. She had to practice, she had to write, she had to record… and then who knew if she'd actually get any fans. Anxiety pooled in her stomach--a different sort than her fear of heights and she forced another deep breath. And then she replayed Amy's words, her brow quirking as another smirk threatened at the corners of her mouth. "Second favorite?"

 

"Well," Amy started, shifting in her seat to face Beca. "Obviously you'll be excellent. Your album's gonna go multi-platinum. My album's gonna be very niche, you know? Fat Amy Winehouse fans are a small yet mightily dedicated group. I'll have a smaller fanbase, but they'll be loyal." She leaned in while fishing a used tissue from her pocket, offering it up to Beca. "Intensely loyal. Think of the fans, Beca. Take the tissue."

 

Beca's nose wrinkled and she pursed her lips, leaning back against the plane's wall. "Pass. But thanks for thinking of me."

 

"Your loss, Mitchell. It might be your greatest regret."

 

"You do remember we live together, don't you? I can literally take your dirty tissues whenever I want."

 

_Ping!_

 

The fasten seatbelt sign extinguished.

 

Moments later, Chloe leaned forward from the middle seat across the aisle. " _Pssst._ Amy, swap seats with me?"

 

Amy shifted again to eye Chloe, with Emily snoozing against the window beside her. She cocked her head to the side. "That depends. Is Legacy hogging the pillow and drooling on your shoulder?"

 

"No! Well, the pillow, yes. But no drool. I really need to talk to Beca," she said, flashing a pouty lower lip at Amy. "Please?"

 

What little Fat Amy lifted of Beca's sour mood had all but deflated and she popped her earbuds back into her ears, turning once more toward the window.

 

Amy glanced between Beca and Chloe and pulled a face. "Aca-uh-oh. I'm sensing some turbulence aboard Flight Bhloe. Yeah, all right. I want to go sweet-talk my way into the liquor cart early anyway." Unbuckling her seatbelt, Amy pushed herself up and headed toward the front of the plane.

 

Chloe stood, careful not to wake Emily as she shuffled across the aisle in her flowy sundress, cardigan, and espadrille wedges. Flopping down into Fat Amy's seat, Chloe crossed her legs at the knee and leaned against the arm rest between her and Beca. "Hey," she said.

 

Beca didn't respond.

 

"I know you can hear me," Chloe said, reaching up slowly to tug at the thin white cord enough to loosen the earbud closest to her. It dropped to Beca's shoulder and tangled in her hair. Chloe worried her lower lip between her teeth as she gingerly reached out to detangle the earbud, grateful for the distraction. "You've barely said two words to me since your show."

 

Beca swallowed hard, her breath catching when Chloe's fingers played in her hair. She played it off with a subtle clear of her throat. "It's been kinda busy if you haven't noticed." After her debut opening for DJ Khaled, there was the afterparty, a few hours of sleep, followed by a farewell Bellas brunch and a long meeting with Theo. Then packing, rushing to the airport…

 

"I know," Chloe allowed, sighing and withdrawing her hand. "And that's fine. It's just…" She hesitated again, afraid to set Beca off into one of her grumpy moods again. Well, grump _ier_. "You had an amazing performance. You have an offer from a killer record label. We just spent the past couple weeks traveling all over. And you don't seem happy."

 

"I'm happy," Beca shot back, snagging the earbud and wrapping the cord around her index finger. "How would you even know, anyway? You've been attached to Army Boy since--" The instant it flew out of her mouth, she grimaced and looked back toward the window. Her stomach twisted for a third time that flight, but it wasn't the flying phobia or the reality of her looming career about to take off at full speed tugging at her nerves that time. It was jealousy. Raw, pathetic jealousy she'd quelled for what felt like a lifetime.

 

Chloe froze, afraid to move or breathe. "His name's Chicago," she said quietly. "And I thought--you and Theo--"

 

Beca leveled her gaze on Chloe. "Theo's my boss. Or, um--I'm his boss? Whatever, it's still--it's nothing," she insisted. "It's fine. It's good. I'm happy for you, since you're clearly super excited and really into him. I didn't realize you had a thing for guys in uniform."

 

A flush rose in Chloe's cheeks and she reached up to tuck a stray ginger lock behind her ear. "I am happy," she said. "But this wasn't about me. I'm here because _I'm_ worried about _you_ , Bec." She slid her hand over Beca's and gave a little squeeze. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

 

"I said I'm happy, Chlo. Would you please just drop-- _fuck!_ " The plane shook violently, gasps of surrounding passengers almost completely drowning out Beca's swear. "Oh my God."

 

_Ping!_

 

The fasten seatbelt sign reignited and Chloe fastened the belt around her, loose enough around her waist. "We'll be fine," she insisted, resting her hand atop Beca's hand once more and noting her death grip on the armrest--so tight her knuckles went white. She ran her fingertips up and down Beca's forearm, hoping to soothe the worry. "Deep breaths. Turbulence comes in patches, it'll be okay. Breathe, Beca."

 

Teeth clenched so tightly she thought she might crack a molar or two, Beca grumbled a few more swears under her breath. Panic tightened inside her chest and she slammed her eyes shut, inwardly berating herself when a traitorous tear slipped free down the cheek visible to Chloe. _Coward._

 

But Chloe didn't laugh. She didn't judge. She only held tighter, reaching up with her free hand to brush the tear away. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together, okay?" The plane kept tremoring around them, a new one spiking each time Beca's muscles tried relaxing again. Chloe frowned. "Do you need a distraction?"

 

Eyes still clenched hard, Beca nodded tightly.

 

Chloe hesitated, glancing over her shoulder before wrenching Beca's hand from the armrest and settling it on her knee instead. "Stop me when you want," she said, leaning closer to lower her voice, her words for Beca's ear only. "I saw that look on your face. After Chicago kissed me. I saw it and I knew," she whispered, dragging Beca's hand up the top of her thigh, inch by inch. "I always thought maybe--I thought there was a chance, but I never knew. I never thought you might want me, too."

 

Beca's mouth fell open and her breath caught, eyes opening and blinking hard at Chloe's face before flickering down to her hand, still covered by Chloe's atop her leg. Her soft, smooth, toned leg. She was afraid to breathe so much as move, and when she tried, the plane violently jolted off-course once more.

 

Many passengers gasped, including Beca.

 

Unlike the rattled vessel, Chloe remained unflinching, focused only on the other girl's face. "Well? Do you? Or am I completely misreading--"

 

Before she finished, Beca nodded. She nodded hard, flight-anxiety still pumping through her veins.

 

A victorious smile twisted on Chloe's lips. "I want you to focus on me now. On my skin beneath your hand. How does it feel?"

 

Beca's mouth went completely dry and she forced a swallow before croaking out syllables that hopefully made words. "Warm," she managed. "Soft."

 

"Soft but not too soft, I hope," Chloe teased. "Can I tell you a secret?" Not waiting for Beca's response, Chloe leaned in to whisper. "I've always wanted to get off on an airplane. Bucket list." She'd always had one, and she'd been itching for Beca to tick off a few of her boxes for _ages_. As she boldly slid Beca's hand toward the inside of her thigh, her tongue darted out to trace the shell of Beca's ear. "Do you think you can help me with that?"

 

The plane rumbled hard again and Beca whimpered, though it proved impossible to tell if the turbulence or Chloe's proposition was the cause. Breathing already ragged, she peered around Chloe. Legacy slept soundly, blissfully ignorant to the horror movie happening around her.

 

Well… part horror movie, part amateur pornography, Beca mentally corrected. With everyone else buckled in, she nodded once more, holding her breath as she let Chloe continue to take the lead.

 

Uncrossing her legs, Chloe guided Beca's hand beneath the hem of her dress, eyes on the lookout for Emily waking across the way or flight attendants roving the impossibly narrow aisle. High risk fueled her excitement and her breath caught as Beca's touch inched closer and closer…

 

Beca's fingertips brushed against the damp heat of Chloe's underwear, and Chloe urged Beca on. "Touch me," she whispered, her own breath hitching at the contact as she pled for more. "Please, Bec. I want you so fucking much."

 

A soft moan escaped as Beca shakily traced Chloe's lower lips through thin satin. She'd never touched another girl, not like that, but she'd gotten herself off wishing for this countless times. Besides, Chloe always proved an excellent teacher. Over the years, Chloe taught Beca about friendship and trust, camaraderie, teamwork, how to be an effective leader, how to smile on occasion… and the importance of fantastic choreography. So Beca put one hundred percent of her trust in her best friend as Chloe slid her own fingers against Beca's, pressing over the edge of her digits.

 

"That feels amazing," she purred for Beca's ears only, her head resting on Beca's shoulder.

 

Beca relaxed into it, licking her lips and turning to rest her cheek against Chloe's head. A few moments later, another sharp jolt of the plane slammed Beca's panic reflex once more and her fingers curled tightly.

 

Chloe yelped as others around them grunted or gasped in frustration.

 

Too much. It had been too much. Heat rose in Beca's cheeks. " _Shit._ I'm so sorry--" she stammered, but Chloe shook her head, effectively shutting her up.

 

"No, that was good. So, so good." Chloe's fingers snaked her ruined panties aside and pressed Beca's middle finger against her bare, soaked slit. "Do you feel that, Bec? Do you feel how wet you make me?"

 

Beca's whole body shivered and she nodded dumbly, shifting uncomfortably in her own seat as the blood from her brain rushed southbound, causing a pulsing ache between her legs. She had a feeling her underthings clung to her in a similar state, but the point was to focus on Chloe's body--to take her mind off her terrible airplane anxiety.

 

"Like this," Chloe coaxed, establishing a rhythm of Beca's index and middle finger circling her swollen clit. "Oh, yes. That's perfect. Don't stop. Please."

 

Another crash of turbulence shook the flying tin can surrounding them, but Beca no longer cared. Her only mission--before the plane inevitably went down and they died on fiery impact--was to tick that box on Chloe's bucket list. To make her come from her touch.

 

Chloe continued whispering hotly against Beca's ear. " _Harder. Slower. A bit left. Faster. Lower. Oh, yes, right there--I'm so close--_ " Her breathing came in short gasps as Beca held her own, afraid to move or breathe or do anything to derail Chloe's building solo.

 

As if on cue, the most severe patch of bumps rocked the plane the moment Beca's fingers brought Chloe over the edge. The redhead cried out, her satisfied mewls blending at a perfect crescendo with the other passengers' sounds of discontent. As aftershocks coursed through her body, she slumped against Beca's shoulder, fighting to catch her breath. "That was--"

 

"Amazing," Beca finished, pressing a kiss to the crown of Chloe's head. "Perfect. Thank you."

 

_Ding!_

 

The plane's speaker crackled before a familiar Australian voice boomed throughout the plane. "Good evening, brave comrades of Flight 229. This is your co-pilot, Captain Patricia Fat Amy Hobart--"

 

"Oh my God," Beca and Chloe mumbled in perfect harmony.

 

"--reporting to you live from the cockpit with our incredibly handsome pilot. I am thrilled to announce we've passed through the worst of the storm and the turbulence is over. I repeat, the turbulence is over. Conditions look clear for the rest of the flight, so settle in and get some shut-eye--unless your name is Legacy, in which case you've slept enough and I'd like the window seat and pillow. Thank you."

 

"She's unbelievable," Beca murmured, a lazy smile seemingly plastered on her flushed face.

  
" _You're_ unbelievable," Chloe said, straightening up and tugging the hem of her dress down to an appropriate length seconds before the flight attendant brushed by.

 

Keeping her blue eyes locked on Chloe, Beca shamelessly brought her fingertips, still glistening with Chloe's juices, into her mouth.

 

Chloe smirked and shivered, leaning forward to press her forehead to Beca's, muttering their Aussie friend's catchphrase. "Crushed it." 

 

****


End file.
